The middle ward was absolutely silent, save the wind, the horse’s gentle snorts, and the hum of the city on the mountain below.
Then, softly: “What has happened?” Grace turned her gaze from the sky to Rune. “What have you done?”
“Could she not remember what she did?” Charity’s voice was quiet, but filled with unease. “Is the royal family in danger now? What of the girls? Sanctuary and Unity. We must hide them, Your Majesty!”
“The Red Dawn was divine judgment.” Dayle spoke calmly. “The princesses have done nothing—”
“If the Red Dawn was divine judgment,” Rupert murmured, softly enough that the gathered crowd in the ward could not hear, “then what, exactly, was being judged? Look at our current situation. Our fair rulers weren’t going to summon the Nightrender at all. They tried to send her away. They kept secrets from her. And, dare I say it”—Rupert looked directly at Rune—”hurt her feelings.”
Rune swallowed around a knot in his throat. The torment in her eyes still pierced him. He had lashed out with the most cutting thing he could think of, the one thing he knew would wound her.
Regret lanced through him. He didn’t usually think of himself as a cruel person, but he had the capacity for it, same as anyone, and not to mention he’d seen a rancor the day before, he hadn’t slept, and his burned hand sent a shock of pain through him every time he so much as twitched his fingers. The combination slowed his mind, making him speak without thinking. And he’d turned his unkindness on the Nightrender….
“If she had intended to bring harm to the Highcrowns,” Dayle tried again, “then she would have.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Opus’s face was red with anger, his eyes dark and his jaw clenched tight. “We are now in more danger than ever, because this child could not control his temper. Who’s to say whether the Nightrender will fulfill her duty and destroy the world’s malsites—or whether she will go to one of our enemies and warn them of our plans? Unfortunately, I cannot imagine that the crown prince was exactly careful when it came to sharing information with the Nightrender.”
Shame burned up Rune’s throat and cheeks. Was it too late to return to the ex-malsite and throw himself back into the fissure?
He hadn’t been careful. He knew that now. He’d been reckless from the beginning, acting on impulse because he was hungry for action and desperate to see this Incursion ended.
And now all his problems remained, complicated by the fact that everyone who could help him was angry with him.
If only Princess Johanne had been alive. Her presence would have solved so many of his problems: the imminent war with Embria, his parents’ reluctance to hold Dawnbreaker trials, the general fear of the Nightrender herself. If they’d been able to return to Brink with the missing princess (and perhaps the majority of Rune’s guards) alive and well, the Crown Council and the rest of the Caberwilline court would surely have viewed the Nightrender differently.
But no. He’d been too late to save anyone.
He was always too late.
Around him, the Crown Council and his parents were still buzzing, working themselves up into a froth.
“This won’t end here,” Charity said. “I move to hold a council meeting right away.”
“I second,” said Rupert. “We need to get this situation with the Nightrender under control.”
“Absolutely.” Charity linked her arm with Rupert’s, and Rune’s heart sank to all-new lows. This was well and truly out of his control. Those two never agreed.
“I’ll tend to the prince’s wounds first, if that’s all right.” Grand Physician Asheater glanced at the king and queen, and when they nodded she stepped around the splash of melted rancor. “Please come with me to the infirmary.” The grand physician’s tone was kind, but that didn’t mean anything. Her tone was always kind. There was a look in her eyes that clearly signaled her anger. His failure meant her department would be forced to work even harder, what with war being deadly by nature.
Dayle shot Rune a sympathetic glance. He would defend Rune, no doubt, but as for what good it would do…
“Once you’re finished in the infirmary,” Queen Grace whispered stiffly, catching Rune’s arm as he passed, “go to your rooms and wait for us. We will come visit you when a decision has been reached.”
Rune’s heart pounded in his throat. “What decision is that?”
“Whether or not you have any place in this kingdom’s future.”
17.
HANNE
Several times as she raced along the highway, Hanne lost her speed.
The horse would stumble. Bone-searing pain would tear through her body. She screamed with the agony of slowness until the spell passed and she could move quickly again. People noticed her, like the first time, but she’d always speed up again before they could ask questions.
Until she didn’t.
The fifth or sixth time it happened, Hanne slowed and stayed slow, and then the pain grew so intense that she had to climb off the horse and vomit into the grass. A woman driving a cart along the road stopped and gave her a sip of water. When she noticed the blood crusted on Hanne’s face, her torn dress, and her emaciated figure, she insisted on giving her a ride into the city.
Hanne sat in the back of the cart, stuffed between two canvas-covered crates. The horse plodded along beside them, tethered by his reins looped and knotted around one of the wooden slats.
The cart was marginally more comfortable than riding the stolen horse, mostly because it didn’t rub the saddle sores that had developed on her thighs.
“How did this happen to you?” asked the woman. Martina, she’d said her name was. She couldn’t have been much older than Hanne, but there was a startling weariness to her eyes. What had this woman been through? Yes, she lived in a kingdom with a terrible climate and low crop yields, and she drove a cart filled with—Hanne peeked under the tarp concealing Martina’s wares—turnips, but it wasn’t as though she’d been trapped in a malsite. It was her kingdom that was trying to inflict malice on Embria and Caberwill, in fact.
Hanne coughed weakly. “I’m on my way to see the king and queen. How far is Athelney?”
Martina looked at Hanne pityingly. “Not far, dear. We’ll be there in less than an hour.”
Hanne couldn’t believe her fortune.
“Why do you need to see them?” Martina asked.
Well, that was rather rude. It wasn’t any of her business. “I’ve never spoken with them before,” Hanne said, as though admitting something very personal and embarrassing, and definitely not like she was avoiding the question.